The Watch
by SC2ManOfSteel
Summary: Overwatch never ended, but is that a good thing? The organization's battle wounds grow deeper everyday with little time to heal. The Watch shows Overwatch in a world where it could not secure global peace, a world where after the Omnic Crisis ended, a whole new war began, causing more damage than ever before. Alternate Reality, Rated T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

7 years ago, shortly after the end of the Omnic Crisis...

Commander Jack Morrison made his way up to the line. This attack was out of no where. In just thirty minutes an unknown force of both omnics and humans had invaded Boston without warning. Overwatch struggled to respond to the sudden offensive, and only a small squad of core members present at the time were left to push the invaders back. Among them was Jack Morrison and Ana Amari. "Ana, report!"

"Their all over us! We need support!"

"Hang on! I'm on my way!" As Jack finished a rocket soared over head striking a large group of the local militia supporting Overwatch's defensive effort. Morrison dived away from the blast, only to have its force throw him against a nearby car.

"Tactical Visor ready for Deployment" echoed from his ear piece as he looked up. Ana's voice quickly followed the notification. "There are only a few of us left! We've taken cover in a civilian cafe. Wait, they're moving something down the road on a transport."

"Stall it whatever it is! I'm almost there!" Jack pressed a button on his ear piece, activating his visor's link to his pulse rifle. In a few short seconds every one of the opposing squad fell to their knees, smoking holes of pulse munitions in their chests.

Jack stumbled forward, suddenly realizing that the impact from hitting the car might've caused damage to his rib cage. Injured yet determined Overwatch's commander made his way forward. Suddenly the roar of jet engines filled his ears as he looked up to see a squad of jets overhead. "Cheers love, the calvary's here! Squad Captain Oxton reporting in!" said a young voice through over Morrison's intercom.

"Hear that Ana? Looks like our support arrived."

"Oh my god, Jack the transport it's carrying-"

A blast of white engulfed the city as the bomb the force had been carrying detonated, desolating Boston.

Present Day...

Morrison woke up in a cold sweat. Same damn dream. Every damn night. He slid to the side of his bed and walked to the bathroom. He turned the lights on and looked in the mirror. A weathered face in its mid forties stared back at him. His hair was getting white, ironically this was the least noticable symptom of his ageing. Jack turned the sink on, soaked his hands, and wiped his face. Drying his hands with the towel on the counter he turned toward the door. The form of teenage girl filled it's frame.

"Shouldn't you be asleep," Jack grumbled.

"Shouldn't you," replied the girl quickly. "Same dream?"

"Don't want to talk about it," Jack answered as he walked towards the door.

"Do you ever?"

"Go to bed, Fareeha."

"Can't sleep," Fareeha quickly shot back as she turned on the light's to Jack's room. The room was empty to say most. Jack took his idealology of only taking what one absolutly needed and made it a life style. There was nothing in the room save the mattress on the floor and the clothes neatly folded in the corner.

"Don't you have some a test tomorrow?" Morrison stumbled over to the light switch, flicking it off.

"We both know I'll pass it," Fareeha countered as she sat at the foot of his bed.

"Not if you don't get some sleep," Jack remarked as he gently pushed Fareeha to the door.

"And what about you? What are you going to do?"

"Try to do the same."

Fareeha and Jack reached the door. Fareeha pivoted to face Jack.

"Do you think she... she would be proud of me?" The girl stared at the floor. Jack took hold of her hand.

"I know she would've."

Fareeha looked up, about ready to say something, as a buzz went off in the corner. Jack turned his head to notice it, and looked back at Fareeha.

"We'll finish this later."

Jack walked over to his ear piece and activated the receiver. Fareeha slowly made her way to her room.

"That's how it always goes."

Jack turned to his doorway as and reached his hand out almost to bring Fareeha back, but she was already gone. He clenched his hand into a fist, and let his arm fall. He placed the transmitter in his ear.

"Morrison. We've got a lead on him."

Jack took one last look at the doorway, and braced himself.

Jack's face hardened, as looked down at his neatly folded uniform.

"I'm on it."


	2. Chapter 2

Five Years Ago, Hanamura, Japan...

Hanzo sat in the pitch black room, eyes closed in reverence for the elders of the clan. He knew what was about to be asked of him. Genji was out of control. He wasted his days on trivial pleasures, putting himself at risk, and dishonoring the Shimada clan.

"Hanzo Shimada, as primary heir to the Shimada clan, a great task has been asked of you," a ancient voice called from the black, "your brother has rejected every chance afforded to him for mercy. He has passed the point of redemption."

Hanzo stared into the darkness ahead of him. "What must be done?"

"For his crimes against this organization, your brother has been sentenced to death. And to prove you are ready to inherit the honor of leading us, you must be the one to finish him."

Hanzo looked down at the floor, desperately trying to find a way to get out of what was being asked of him.

"Is this the Shimada clan's decree?"

The voice answered back with a response as hard as stone. "Yes."

Hanzo's glanced upwards, resolve filling him.

"Then I am no longer a tool of this clan."

"You would reject your heritage? Your duty? Your honor?"

Hanzo's hand slid slowly to his back. He would have to be silent, quick, and deadly.

"My heritage is my family," Hanzo answered back. "My duty is to my blood."

The voice hissed back, "Then you are a fool!"

"My honor," Hanzo's fingertips touched the edge of small wooden rod. His arrow. His key to freedom for his brother and himself. "is bound to those close to me!"

The room filled with light as black clad assassins descended from nowhere charging the archer. Hanzo's movements, perfectly executed and timed, took only miliseconds. The arrow glided with his arm, notching itself in his bow string. His muscles tensed, pulling it back. His eyes focused ahead of him, at the council of elders before him. Time itself seemed to stop, as Hanzo mouth opened and a piercing yell filled the room.

"Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!"

Hanzo's body was no longer under his control. It was a vessel for something ancient. Something that only a few Shimada's knew of, let alone could use. His arm burned with fire as a blue form swirled around it, latching to the arrow. As the arrow to flight Hanzo felt himself empty completly. His vision blurred as the form of the ancient dragons decimated the council before him.

He fell to the ground, unable to move from effort. His attackers were upon him, as he consciousness slipped into the same inky darkness that he had experienced when first entering the room.

Present Day...

It was almost time. Genji stood in the rain atop a old gas station. His gaze was that of a hawks. Months of planning, interrogating, torture, all for tonight. "Hanzo..." Genji whispered the name. "You did not abandon me brother. I will not abandon you."

Several black cars drove down the road, all heavily defended, all probably worth more then some men would ever dream of making. Genji felt his sword hilt as reached for his brother's bow also strapped around his back. He grabbed an arrow quiver and attached a small device to its tip as he fired it a nearby building. His visor filled with information on everything nearby. If this was years ago he might've thought it was like a mini map in a video game. If it was years ago, Hanzo might've chastised him for such immature thoughts. But it was not years ago, and Hanzo wasn't her to protect and guide him. Now it was only Genji, and he knew it all to well.

Using the scanning arrow, Genji analyzed each vehicle's occupants. Several heavily armed men. Standard grunts for the clan. Maybe a couple of omnics, fitted with average bipedal body types. But where was...

...There he was. Genji jumped to the rooftop next to the station. He ran across it until he was at the edge of a much taller building. He jumped to the fire escape on the side and looked at his surroundings. Perfect. This is where he will act.

Suddenly a warning blared on his visor. A drop ship was deploying to men nearby.

Overwatch.

"Not here. Not now." Genji cursed under his breath. His already difficult task was now going to be close to impossible. He contemplated retreating, and replanning. "No," he thought, "Too much time has been invested in today for me to run now." Genji steeled himself, readied an arrow, and prepared to face not only the Shimada clan, but now high class agents of Overwatch.

As he looked down the shaft, he whispered to himself.

"My heritage is my family. My duty is to my blood. My honor is bound to those close to me."


	3. Chapter 3

7 years ago...

Reyes took a deep breath. Everything was under control. Everything was fine.

He was aboard a drop ship headed for Boston, his squad ready to deploy to the ground. Some kind of uprising from a group call themselves the Order had just gone down. Reyes knew the score. Typical punks with guns looking to make a lot of noise now that the crisis was over. Probably some of the damn tin cans leading it.

Reyes looked down at his bracers. They were newly designed off of some kind of teleportation device. They teleported bullets into his gun rather than reloading. They also made it impossible for him to ever really lose his guns. Every time he dropped them they reappeared in his hands. It was useful, especially for someone like Reyes, who wasn't patient enough to reload his weapons that often in fire fights.

Reyes looked up to see his squad. A good bunch of men. Soldiers. They knew what it took to get the job done, no matter what it took, an ideology that had caused a falling out between him and Morrison. Morrison. God if he could just see the possible disaster his "leave no man behind" approach could cause.

Reyes' focus broke as the drop ship took a sudden turn.

"What the hell was that?" Reyes roared as he got up from his seat, storming to the pilot's cabin.

"Distress signal towards the center of the fire fight, sir. We're moving in to respond."

"Was that part of the mission, pilot!" Reyes towered over the man piloting the ship.

"N- n- no sir," the pilot studdered.

"Everyone needs help whenever there's a situation like this. We have our job, they'll just have to theirs."

Reyes knew he sounded cold, but he had a mission, and the sooner he succeeded the less lives that would be lost.

"S- sir?"

"What?"

"The distress signal, it captain Amari."

Reyes froze. Ana? What the hell was Ana doing here?

Reyes switched his communicator to the channel of Ana's signal.

"Ana? What's wrong? Ana?"

Jets soared by next to the ship shaking the entirety of its passengers, knocking Reyes' communicator out of reach. He frantically grabbed it, off the floor of the transport only to hear the frantic words of his close friend.

"Oh my god, Jack the transport it's carrying-"

A massive wave of force from an explosion hit Reyes' ship. He sprang to the window to see Ana's last location. A massive explosion at its core.

He rammed his fist against the glass. Rage, grief, and regret filled him all at once as Gabriel Reyes watched one of the few people he cared about die.

"Ana!"

Present Day...

Gabriel Reyes stood at his locker, staring at an old photograph. His face, accompanied by the closest thing to a family stared. The trio of Ana, Jack, and Gabriel at the beginning of Overwatch. Before everything changed. Before Reyes lost another piece of what was left of his soul. He placed the photo back in his locker. Taking out his bracers. Morrison would be here soon. After all Morrison and him understood each other now.

The mission saves lives. And the only way to save the most lives is to finish the mission, as soon as possible.

Jack entered the room. He looked tired. Gabriel examined the wrinkles on his ageing face, and turned to the mirror in his locker. The same signs of age could be seen in him. They were getting older. They had joined Overwatch to make the world a better place, but each passing day the world made it more and more apparent it didn't want that.

"You been briefed?" Reyes asked, turning to Jack, who was staring into his locker.

Jack grabbed his pulse rifle and tactical visor from the locker.

"Yeah. First time a Shimada has been spotted in years," Jack grumbled as he closed his locker. "Funny. Thought the younger one was supposed to be in hiding after what they did to his brother."

"We'll ask him ourselves why he came back I suppose," commented Reyes as he activated his bracers, causing his shot guns to appear in his hands.

Jack jumped. "Seventeen years soldiering, and the only thing to ever make me jump are those damn guns!"

Reyes smiled. He's lost so much. And yet he still had a few friends left in this world.

"Let's go catch ourselves a Shimada."


	4. Chapter 4

Seventeen years ago, Hanamura, Japan...

The boy gasped for air, sweaty palms clinging to the hilt of his sword. He had been practicing for hours, to the point where he could barely see straight. The man in front of him did not care. It was imperative, after all, that the boy learn to control his exhaustion.

"Again, Genji," the man commanded without any hint of pity in his voice.

Genji attempted to ready himself as his unstable legs attempted to get into a passable fighting stance. He forced his breathing to slow as he focused his vision.

The man charged, swinging overhead at his trainee. Genji raised his sword to block it, feeling the iron impact of a flawless strike meeting with his own flawless defense.

"Good," the man flatly commented, "again."

The man thrust his sword at Genji. Genji rolled to the side. As he looked up he saw it. An opportunity for attack, the first one he had ever seen. Genji sprang upon the man's exposed side, sword thrust before him.

He was met with a swift blow to the head from the man's hilt.

Genji fell to the floor, vision dazed. The man stood above him.

"Never trust an open defense in an opponent far more skilled than you," the man scolded. "Now get up."

Genji stumbled to his knees, attempting to stand.

The man looked down at him. "Your exhaustion makes you impatient. You must learn to control it, if you are to ever control the dragons."

Genji looked up, "But why, father?"

The head of the Shimada clan looked down at his youngest son, "The dragons consume all Genji. As a Shimada, you are tasked with being their keeper. One day you will be able to use them, but the a force such as the dragons consume their master as much as their foes. If you are to ever be able to use the dragons without destroying yourself in the process, you must be able to learn how to control yourself, even at the point of death."

Genji stood up, facing his father. He dropped his sword to the ground.

"I never asked to be a master of dragons."

Present day...

Genji breathed in deeply, arrow in hand. Focus. Focus was key here. Hanzo had taught him that any situation could be conquered by a calm mind. There were three vehicles, each filled with four men. Those he could handle. The difficulty came with the overwatch agents. The group recruited unpredictable and powerful opponents. These two people could quite possibly do anything.

Genji needed to be able to gauge their strength and stop the convoy of cars all at once. Maybe he could...

No.

This was not the first time he had been tempted to use the dragons. He knew he was not ready. If Hanzo, the more skilled of the two brothers could not master them, how could Genji ever hope to. No, he needed to rely on himself, and himself alone.

His visor informed him the convoy was nearly upon him.

Damn it, what was he supposed to do? Genji lowered his bow as he looked down. Down. The fire escape. That could work.

Genji jumped back to the rooftop he'd come from. He raised his bow grabbing multiple arrows, each one equipped with an explosive tip. An modification of his own design. Hanzo always hated the attention explosives drew. Genji however, was always one for theatrics.

His visor went off again. The convoy was seconds away, and the overwatch agents were coming up behind him.

He breathed out as he fired. Each arrow hitting it's mark. The result was a spectacular group of explosions on the side of the building ahead of him. Not strong enough to damage the structure itself, the fire escape was another story however. It fell just as he planned it to. Right into the road, onto the hood of the first car in the convoy. The other two crashed into the back.

What was it Hanzo used to always say?

Simple Geometry.

Yes that was it.

Now for the real hard part. Genji slung his brother's bow over his shoulder and stood in the middle of the rooftop, hand on the hilt of his sword. His visor informed him the agents were advancing to the roof now, obviously Genji was there target.

"Come and get me," he thought to himself silently.


	5. Chapter 5

Present Day...

Morrison peaked around the corner of an alleyway.

"All clear."

Reyes moved in behind him as they both crossed the street.

"How dangerous is this guy supposed to be anyway?" Reyes asked.

"Dangerous enough to send both of us after him," Jack replied trying to get a clear visual through all the rain. "Just be on guard."

Jack pressed his earpiece. Tactical visor charging. Looks like he was going to have to rely on his own aim in this fight, which wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for all this damn rain.

Reyes pushed past Jack and pointed to a ladder.

"Yeah what about it?" Jack asked.

Gabriel pointed to the scraped off rust. The latter had been used lately.

They both did a weapons checked and nodded to each other.

Suddenly a massive boom was heard a fiery pillar fell into the road. Three cars nearby crashed into the wreckage.

"Situation just escalated. We got take him down. Now." Gabriel coldly remarked.

They both moved up the ladder to be met by a young man, his silhouette outlined by the flames of the road.

Morrison took a step forward.

"Genji Shimada, you're under arrest."

The man stared at Jack without moving a muscle.

Reyes stepped up next to Jack.

"What are you waiting for? Let's bring him in."

As Gabriel stepped up Genji drew his blade, prompting both men to draw their weapons.

"I am not going anywhere. My business is with the men down there, not you. Leave now, or you will force my hand."

"Yeah I don't think so junior. You're coming with us whether you like it or not," Jack ordered as his checked his visor's status again. Tactical visor charging.

"You were warned," Genji flatly replied.

The young heir to the Shimada clan charged at Jack with lightning speed. Morrison barreled left, narrowly avoiding the sword being placed into his chest. Jack flipped onto his back and fired at Genji, only to have his target charge out of his line of fire. How the hell was he doing that?

Reyes moved in shotguns raised as he fired round after round at the Shimada.

Genji turned just in time to dodge to the left, but felt several shards clip his arm. Careless.

Reyes dropped his guns to the ground. Empty, but not for long.

Genji charged at him. Kicking him to the ground.

Jack had gotten up at this point, and began firing at Genji again.

Genji rolled away from Reyes and charged at Jack. He swung low with his sword, knocking Jack's rifle out of his hands. The commander drew his knife as he prepared to make his stand against the lightning fast assailant. Genji charged.

He struck Morrison's temple with the hilt of his blade, knocking him unconscious. There was no need to kill him. He was just trying to do his job after all.

Genji turned to Reyes he was on his hands and knees, attempting to get up. Genji walked over to the man.

"It is over. Do not prolong this violence," Genji pleaded as he stood above the defeated man.

Reyes looked up and smiled.

"No. There isn't."

Reyes reached his hands out in front of Genji. Confused, Genji prepared to knock his attacker out, just as he had done so with the other.

Suddenly, two shotguns appeared in the man's hands. He fired at Genji, knocking him onto his back.

Genji gasped for air. His armor had saved his life but he was barely able to move. His sword lie next to him. He reached out his hand for it, only to have it crushed under the heel of Reyes. A shotgun was now pointed at his forehead.

"Genji Shimada," Reyes growled, "you're under arrest."

Genji cursed under his breath.

The last thing he saw was the handle of the gun ramming him in the forehead, as everything faded to black.

Reyes spoke into his communicator. Command, we've secured Shimada. There is collateral over here though. Request for drop ship and a clean up crew."

The voice over his comms echoed back, "we read you Reyes, drop ship and clean up crew are enroute. Sit tight."

Gabriel hand cuffed the defeated Shimada and looked down at the wreckage of cars in the road. He saw multiple figures emerge. He was about to tell them to stand by for medical assistance when he noticed they were all... fleeing. Not the panicked directionless running of civilians either. These men had somewhere to be. Something they were protecting. Before Reyes could call to them the lights of the drop ship appeared above him. When he looked back down, the men were gone, disappearing into the stormy night.


	6. Chapter 6

7 years ago...

Gone.

All gone.

Fareeha looked down at the casket.

No body was inside.

Gone.

She was gone.

All that was left was her name.

Her mother lie before her. An empty casket. They couldn't find a body in all the wreckage. They couldn't even find where the buildings once stood. The words of a reporter echoed in Fareeha's mind.

Total Annihilation.

Fareeha became aware that the speeches had finished. She had barely even realized they were talking. She looked down at the casket again, as it slowly descended into the earth. She felt tears run down her face. Gliding almost as passively as they came. Fareeha hadn't realized that she had started crying. When it finally hit her, the fact barely registered. Emotions flooded her head. She couldn't even begin to process them, and so she stood, silently crying, as empty casket holding nothing but the memory of her mother. She felt weak. Her world had given away, leaving the young girl in free fall. And just as she was about to give up she felt it.

A hand.

His hand on her shoulder.

The child looked up at it's owner, tears blurring her vision. She wiped her eyes. Even though the man was average height he appeared to tower over her. Something about him seemed bigger. Bigger than the world that had fallen away. And yet even being so big, all his attention was on her. The man kneeled down to her level, and spoke. His voice filled her with courage. It was full of loss and yet strength.

"Fareeha, my name is Jack Morrison. I was a friend of your mother's. I'll be taking care of you from now on."

Present Day...

She looked over her class mates. They all knew her. They all respected her. Some of them hated her. Others admired her. She didn't care.

Fareeha stood in line with other pilots taking their final exam. Jack said he'd be here.

Yet there was no sight of him.

"Fareeha Amari," a voice over a loud speaker announced, "you have been selected to be the first flight test today."

Fareeha smiled. The youngest overwatch agent to ever pass this test was Lena Oxton, when she was only sixteen years old. Fareeha aimed at beating that as being a fifthteen year old. She had passed every test, excelled in every exercise. She was ready.

Fareeha stepped forwards and saluted into the empty space ahead of her.

"Fareeha Amari ready for flight."

"You may enter the plane and begin your test."

Fareeha watched as a plane almost appeared in front of her. Blink technology. Ever since Oxton came back there was amazing advances in the field, spear headed by Winston.

Fareeha entered the cockpit, and sat down. The chair pulled her forward as harness containing a chrono accelerator strapped across her chest. She breathed out slowly, calming herself.

The cockpit was almost empty on its own, until the holographic HUD appeared before her. Fareeha plugged in her preferences, minimal fluff. She knew how to fly this plane. She smirked. Minimal. Jack would be proud.

She looked out the cockpit.

If he were here...

Just as Fareeha was about to turn back, she saw him. His head was bandaged but he was still here. Confidence filled her as she activated her comms.

"System check green across the board."

"We read you Amari, you are clear to proceed."

Fareeha's hand slid forward, interacting with the digital control of the plane. She saw a message appear before her.

Blink jump ready to proceed.

Fareeha smiled. "Proceed."

In an instant the plane was in the middle of some kind of artificial canyon. She was grinning now. She never felt more alive than she did flying.

Fareeha sped foward, gliding through the tight turns and obstacles placed by overwatch with ease. She emerged outside of the canyon and into a field of virtual turrets. The plane would behave as if it had gotten shot if it was hit, even though there was no danger to the pilot.

Fareeha zigzagged through the turrets, maneuvering the plane as an artist moves their brush. Fareeha passed the last of the turrets. She had done. She had beaten the test. She waited for the return blink message.

It didn't come.

Fareeha switched on her comms.

"Command this is Amari, I've passed all the simulations but I haven't received my return blink coordinates yet."

"We rea- w- s-"

The comms broke up as the HUD that acted as the controls of the plane twitched and then turned off.

The roar of the engines behind her ceased.

Shit.

Fareeha pulled the lever to right, attempting to eject, only to realize the mechanism was jammed.

Fear filled Fareeha.

Her plane began to dip, nose first towards the ground. Fareeha panicked.

Her memories flooded her as time slowed. She saw a blurry image of her mother carrying her on her back, pretending to fly. Fly. No not fly.

Glide.

That was it! Fareeha punched the emergency lever at her left down. A joystick emerged in front of her. She grabbed it with both hands and pulled up with all her strength. Gravity itself was fighting her as she pulled. The nose began to reluctantly curve up as the plane began to slows its descent.

Fareeha eyed the ground below her. It wouldn't be enough.

She punched the walls of her falling vehicle in fury and fear.

You have got to be kidding me, she thought as the HUD reappeared before her. The blink command flashed before her.

She rammed her hand through the holographic button, milliseconds from the ground.

She reappeared in the hanger, observing the scrambled emergency teams stare dumbfounded at her.

Fareeha leaned back in her chair, sighing in relief.

"Bet Oxton could never do that," she laughed to herself as the cockpit opened to a waiting medical team.


	7. Chapter 7

3 years ago...

Reyes approached the kid handcuffed to the chair. He was dirty, scruffy, and... desperate.

Gabriel knew the feeling all to well. His father had died when he was younger, his mother could barely take care of him. Reyes was faced with turning to the streets or going into the military. He chose the latter, hoping to make something of himself.

He looked down at the kid's profile.

"Jessie McCree. Crimes: Train Robbery...? Found with: A revolver, pancho, a cowboy hat..."

Reyes looked up from the profile.

"Are you trying to look like a clown? This isn't a game kid. People could've gotten hurt."

The teenager shifted a bit, his gaze looking down in shame.

Reyes sighed. Damn it.

Gabriel walked over to McCree.

"Look kid. I know it's rough out there. I know it's easy to get caught up with the wrong people. But your better than this."

McCree continued to avoid Reyes gaze.

Gabriel walked back over to the profile to check who he would send this kid back to.

Parents: Deceased.

Reyes walked over to McCree again and released his restraints.

McCree looked up at him, and then towards the door.

He got up and began to make his way to the exit.

"Wait," Gabriel spoke up just as he got to door. "You can leave, walk out that door, never look back, and continue down the road you're on. But I've been where you're standing, kid. You can be better than that. You could leave. Or you could stay here. I can help."

The boy reached his hand towards the door knob. It hovered there a moment, and then lowered.

McCree turned to Reyes.

"Show me."

Present Day...

He's been in worse spots than this.

Several shots hit the flipped metal table he was hiding behind.

Okay maybe not.

More shots. Damn this guy was good. He pulled out his revolver. Five shots. He checked his belt for more ammo. Nothing.

"Well McCree," he said, "you've really screwed the pooch this time."

He locked the chamber of his revolver back in place, and checked his comms. Still down.

McCree realized the sniper hadn't fired in a few seconds, meaning-

Two shots went straight through his left arm.

"Damn it!"

McCree rolled to other side of the small side room in the factory, flipping over another table as cover. He checked his wounds. He couldn't feel his arm. He tore his pancho off and tied it around his arm.

The damn thing was a set. The whole god damn thing.

He was running out of options and fast. He had to get outside of the factory. The jamming signal only seemed to work inside the building. He looked to the doors. Only way out. Twenty meters. If this guys aim stayed just as accurate as it had been he wouldn't stand a chance.

"Come on! Think damn it! Think!"

A shot flashed overhead. Flashed. That's it. McCree pulled the last of his flash bangs from his boot. Three of them. These things were way to short range on their own but if he rewired them together the blast could fill the whole factory for a few seconds.

He noticed there hadn't been a shot in a few seconds and rolled back to his original hiding spot, just as a shot landed right where his head would've been.

He popped the caps off of the flash bangs, and made his scrappy bomb.

This would blind him and the sniper. A few shots hit the table.

"Better than getting shot when you can see," he thought.

He tossed the makeshift flash bang out as he rolled out from behind cover. Everything went white.

He heard a woman exclaim from above him. The sniper. He fired the remainder of his rounds in her direction as he ran. He smashed his shoulder through the door, and felt his shoulder break with the impact. He fell to the ground, outside of that death trap of a factory.

His comms came back on. He screamed into them.

"Get me a damn evac now!"

He stumbled to his feet, as his vision slowly returned.

He heard the snap of glass as his assassin got into position at the doorway. He rolled to his right, and attempted to fire his revolver only to met with the click of an empty gun. He could make the vague shape of a woman aiming at him through the scope of a sniper rifle.

This was it.

The roar of drop ship interrupted the thought as McCree felt himself grabbed by the evac. The sniper realizing this was her last chance took her shot at him as he was pulled into the ship. McCree felt the right side of his face explode in pain.

The door to the drop ship closed. McCree's vision returned to his left eye only, just as he went unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

Two years ago...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the next generation of overwatch agents," the voice echoed through the auditorium.

The newly certified agents stood up and faced the crowd.

Reyes clapped his hands, pride filling him, as McCree was certified as full fledged overwatch agent.

He had done it.

Flashes of Reyes graduation from training ran through his head. He remembered standing on that stage, his mother beaming with pride as she looked at him. He had beaten the odds. He would make something of himself. He would make her proud.

McCree stood on stage as the medal was pinned to him. He looked down at Reyes, the same pride in his eyes.

And he was still wearing that dumbass hat. Reyes chuckled to himself under his breath.

Reyes raised his arm in a salute.

He had never been so happy or proud in his life.

Present Day...

"Where is he?!"

Reyes shoved his way through the medical wing doors, followed by Morrison.

Gabriel stormed up to the reception desk and slamming his fist down on the counter. Tears were beginning to fill his eyes.

"Jessie McCree! What room?!"

"T- Two Seventeen,"the receptionist stuttered.

Reyes rushed over to the doors leading to the ER. He shoved his way past a nurse looking down a clip board. Morrison caught her, apologized for his friend, and rushed back behind Gabriel.

Reyes stormed through the halls until he reached room 217. He put his hand on the doorknob and closed his eyes, pausing for a moment. He breathed in deep and opened the door.

McCree was unconscious, his right eye bandaged and left arm gone.

Reyes braced himself against the wall. Turning his head down into his palm. Jack grabbed put his hand on Reyes shoulder, before he left the room to give Gabriel some space for a minute.

Jack stopped a nurse in the hall.

"Excuse me, how did this happen?"

"There a report from the drop ship that picked him up. If you need it, I can bring it to you in a few minutes."

Jack nodded and leaned on the wall outside the room.

Meanwhile Reyes had moved to a chair next to McCree's bed, his face in his hands.

Not again. Not another one. He looked up at the bed. For a moment he saw Ana lying there, broken and dying.

"Ana!" echoed over and over in his head as the vision faded.

He balled his hand into fist, anger rising up in him as an all to familiar void reared its ugly head. But there was something else. Guilt.

They were going to pay.

Whichever bastards who had done this, they were dead.

He stood up, taking one last look at McCree.

"I promise."

As he exited the room he saw Morrison leaning against the wall, reading McCree's mission report.

Jack looked up at Reyes and passed him the clip board without a word.

Reyes looked down at the report but quickly noticed the photos in the corner.

"The drop ship took those as they were getting out of there," Jack said.

Reyes stared at the photographs.

A blue woman holding a sniper rifle stared back.

She was going to pay.

Reyes handed the clipboard to Jack without a second glance, storming out of the hall.

Morrison followed, placing the report on the reception desk as they left.

"Reyes," Jack stopped Gabriel, firmly planting his hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

Reyes jerked around to face Morrison, shoving his hand off his shoulder.

"Like hell it wasn't! I was supposed to protect him. I got him into this life Jack! I wasn't there! I should've..."

Reyes voice broke as it began to fill with tears.

"I should've..."

Jack grabbed Gabriel's arm.

"We'll fix this Reyes."

Reyes looked up at him.

"No. This is something I need to fix myself."

"Reyes-"

"Don't get in my way on this one Jack."

Reyes turned around, a began to walk away. Jack didn't follow him.

"This one's personal."

Author's Note: Hey hope you guys are liking the story so far. Just wanted to ask you guys to review it. I like hearing what people like and don't like. I want to give you guys the best story possible.


	9. Chapter 9

Seven Years ago..

The white flash filled her screen. It was done.

She closed her eyes and sighed. She took no pride or pleasure in what she had done. She did what was necessary to make the world a better place. Every Phoenix must rise from ashes. In order to build one must destroy.

She pulled up a hologram of Boston on her table.

Overwatch units scrambling to regain control. Medical facilities overwhelmed. Thousands, maybe even a million dead.

Overwatch had claimed they would bring peace to the world after they ended the omnic crisis. She had heard it all before. She had seen far too many good people attempt to "secure peace" to allow overwatch to expand.

The organization would survive this incident, but she had changed things. The public would no longer trust them with their protection. She had crippled them. All that was left was to bleed them until they faded into oblivion.

There was no time to waste. She immediatly began mobilizing her agents around the world. As she did so she looked at a small excerpt from a poem she had framed on her wall.

"Peace from order. Order from the shadows."

Present day, Stuttgart, Germany...

They were a small but elite group. Ex soldiers, ex mercenaries, and god knows what else. There were six of them. Their number consisted of two omnic monks who sympathized with their cause. Three ex overwatch agents. Probably wipes he thought to himself.

"And me," he thought, as he looked over his group of misfits. He had been mercenary, but sought a higher calling. The Order found him. They striped him down and remade him. He sometimes tried to remember his name, but couldn't. All that he was now was tool for peace. A weapon of a higher power.

"Everybody lock and load," he commanded as he exited the vehicle.

They approached the entrance of the data bank fully armed. The overwatch agents at the door attempted to stop them only for a moment before they were filled with bullets.

He kicked down the door, his agents sweeping either side of the room.

"Clear out the data managers," he called to his men. "We only need one."

Gunshots echoed through the room as the omnics were executed at the work stations. He approached the one he had selected to live. It was hiding behind its desk, fearing for its life. He looked over to its desk. A picture of it next to another omnic holding up a human child was prominent in its work space.

"Regrettable," he thought to himself. He leaned down and grabbed the cowering omnic by the throat.

"Please," it pleaded, artificial eyes filled with fear.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say as he dug the probe into its skull. The machine did its job as he looked at the screen on his wrist. Data transfer complete.

The omnic fell to the ground. Dead. Another casualty of war.

He turned to his squad, who were already standing at the door, their bloody work done.

"Mission complete. Let's get out of here."

They had almost all loaded into their vehicle when they heard it. The sound of heavy footsteps.

They had just finished boarding the car, when the lights all went out around them. The footsteps were getting closer.

He started the vehicle, just as he saw the form of what looked like a glowing helmet twenty meters away.

He paused, stunned.

The form suddenly spoke in a deep booming voice.

"Crusader Online."

A rocket lit behind the armored thing ahead of them as it flung itself into the vehicle. He had barely realized what was happening before a hammer crashed through the roof of the car, crushing four of his team members.

"What the hell!" was all he had time to scream before he felt the car tip over on its side. Was this thing actually lifting the whole damn car?

Him and his surviving partner crawled out of the vehicle as it was crushed under the blows of the massive hammer.

Then he heard him again.

He was laughing. He was smashing his vehicle and laughing.

He concluded they were dealing with a mad man as him and his partner loaded their weapons. They turned toward their now unrecognizable vehicle, to get their first glimpse of their attacker.

Their assailant was the hulking form of man in armor, head to toe, wielding a rocket powered hammer. He stopped his onslaught on the vehicle and turned to them.

They fired everything they had at him, smoke from their weapons filling the air blocking their vision.

They both continued to fire until they ran out of ammo.

Just as they stopped and the smoke cleared they saw him towering above them, hammer poised over head.

Their attacker let out a massive ear shattering booming yell, filled with an almost ecstatic tone.

"Hammer..."

The hammer over his head suddenly ignited as rockets on the back side of it activated.

"Down!" was the last thing they heard as they were crushed by a miniature earthquake.

Reinhardt chuckled to himself. A good fight.

He laid his hammer down as he walked over to inspect the bodies of the villains he had just crushed. Not much was recognizable as usual. An arm here. A foot over there. But... what was that? He leaned over and picked up a small screen.

Data Transfer Complete. Genji Shimada Location Found.

He opened a compartment in his thigh, a pocket of sorts. This could be important later. He'd have to report this to overwatch.

"But first," he thought, "a toast to victory is due."

Reinhardt picked up his hammer and slung it over his shoulder.

He opened his comms.

"Bridgette, come! We have drinking to do!"


	10. Chapter 10

Seven years ago, shortly after the attack on Boston...

He woke up to crying.

Jack rubbed his eyes, his hand moving up through his hair. He sighed and got out of bed. He stumbled in the dark until he reached Fareeha's room. The girl was curled up in her bed, sobbing. Jack stopped in the doorway. What was he supposed to do?

He paused for a moment, then moved forward, sitting at the end of Fareeha's bed. She remained balled up, still sobbing into her sheets.

Jack cautiously reached out hand, gently placing it on her back.

The child remained still, her crying began to slow.

"It's okay to cry," Jack attempted to comfort her. "I miss her too."

Fareeha remained in fetal position, but had now reduced her crying to sniffling.

"Your mother was an amazing person... and one of my best friends..."

Jack began to stroke the young girl's back. He had no absolutely no idea what he was doing.

"I know I'll never be able to fill that void. I never knew I was going to be father. But I will do my best to watch over you. I won't abandon you Fareeha."

The child stirred. Jack removed his hand, thinking he had somehow upset her.

Then she crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Was she... hugging him? Jack's arms awkwardly hovered in the air at shoulder height, unsure what to do. He lowered them slowly and held the young girl in an embrace as she buried her face into his chest.

He felt something in his chest. Something the commander had never felt before as he held the child. A warm feeling of belonging, protection, attachment... family.

That was the word for it. It was an old feeling for Jack. One he had almost forgotten.

He held onto it as he held the young girl in his arms.

Present Day...

Fareeha peaked into Jack's room. He was dressed for combat, blue coat and armor shining in the moonlight through the window. He was currently placing ammo magazines in his coat, checking each one to ensure it was fully loaded. She noticed an oddity in his appearance compared to when he was preparing for a mission. His overwatch identification was missing. He would never forget to have it on unless...

This wasn't a mission.

Fareeha stepped into the room making her presence known.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Her question was less inquisitive as it was demanding.

"Out."

"Out?" Fareeha almost accusingly asked. "Dressed for full combat operations?"

"There's trouble with Reyes. He's going to need help."

Fareeha crossed her arms.

"The kinda trouble that needs you to carry twenty magazines full of pulse rounds?"

Jack stopped loading the current magazine and looked at the wall ahead of him.

"Yeah," he answered quietly.

"And what about me?"

Jack turned around and walked over to Fareeha.

"I need you here. There's no safer place then overwatch's headquarters."

"You know that's not what I meant," Fareeha snapped. "You're going to get yourself killed out there. You're not a young soldier like before Jack. You can't take on the world."

"Fareeha..."

Fareeha raised her voice.

"Don't 'Fareeha' me! You go out there everyday, and I don't know if your'e coming back. Now your'e going out there, fully exposed, no back up, no way out, and you just expect me to sit here!"

Fareeha's eyes began to tear up.

Jack stepped forward and put his arms around the young girl.

"I am not going to die out there. I promise."

Fareeha pushed him away.

"Don't make promises you're not sure you can keep."

The girl turned, and stormed out of the room, leaving the commander standing there alone.

He didn't know why, but part of him felt itself breaking as she left.

He looked down at the rifle propped up in the corner.

He hardened himself, and grabbed the weapon. It felt heavier than usual, weighed down by some unseen force.

"I'm sorry Fareeha," he whispered. "I will come back."

Jack left the room.

He was going to war.


	11. Chapter 11

Seven years ago...

Lena Oxton and her squadron were being deployed. They had just received multiple distress signals from Boston.

The sixteen year old squad captain ran the final system checks on her plane as she took off. The skyline of Boston visible on the horizon.

"Alright people, we got a job to do and not much time to do it. The primary objective here is to offer air support to the few active overwatch squad's in the city. Let's move."

Her plane flew over the buildings of the city.

"Brooks, McGaren, you two fan out to the signals at the edges of the city. Terra, Adams, you two secure the roadways. I'll intercept the main distress signal at the center of the city."

Lena changed her comms channel, broadcasting to the soldiers on the ground.

"Cheers love, the calvary's here! Squad Captain Oxton reporting in!"

She began to lock in on her target location. What the hell was that thing?

Suddenly a white light enveloped her, blinding the young captain.

Six years ago...

Her vision cleared as she realized she was falling, through the air, no plane, not parachute.

She flailed wildly in the air.

She was going to die.

Oh my god she was going to die.

Just as the ground was about ready to meet her, her vision faded to white once again.

Five years ago...

Lena's vision returned. She was in a circular room. She could make out the blurry forms of people looking in at her through the window. She saw them get pushed aside by a large form. A familiar voice filled the room.

"Lena! It's Winston! We're going to get you out! Can you hear me? We're going to-"

Everything turned white.

Four years ago...

Tearing was the best way to describe it. Oxton felt herself being torn apart. The white light was blinding.

And then it stopped.

She was standing in the same room again. But this time felt different. She felt solid?

Yes, solid that was it.

Winston's voice echoed over the intercom.

"Did we get her? Lena? Lena can you hear me?"

She took a step forward to the large form behind the glass windows of the room, putting her hand on the window. She attempted to speak, but no sound would come out.

Then the shadow moved. A large hand pressed up against the glass, matching Oxton's.

"It's alright Lena. We'll fix this."

Present Day...

Lena Oxton approached the high security cell, flanked by Winston.

The cell's inhabitant looked up, while his eyes remained closed in meditation.

Genji Shimada.

Lena split off from her friend and began to pace around the room, examining all the machines monitoring the cell. She remembered the inside of it all to well, but never really saw much of the machines that made it so secure. Like this button over.

Winston turned to the young agent, "Don't touch that."

Lena huffed, and crossed her arms.

She walked over to a lever on the side of the cell, reaching for it.

"Or that."

Lena made an exaggerated frown as she stuck her tongue out at Winston.

She then casually strolled over to the gorilla, hands behind her back as she leaned over his shoulder.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Checking the calabrations on the containment field to ensure it can withstand a high energy assault."

Lena stared at Winston a moment, and then blinked a couple times.

"Cool."

She reached her hand over to a series of flashing buttons.

"But what do these do?"

Winston gently pushed her away from the control console.

"Lena just... don't touch anything..."

Lena raised a finger in protest.

"...at all."

Her arm sank to the ground like a deflated balloon.

Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms.

"You're no fun."

Winston turned, finished with his work.

"I'm fun when I want to be."

The two left the room, playfully arguing.

As the door shut, Genji looked up.

He stared at his prison. He stood up. His muscles tensed. He cracked his neck, and knuckles.

He felt as his form charged with energy. He braced himself as he pointed himself at the third glass window. He'd been studying the cell since he'd arrived, and concluded this pane of glass was the weakest. Specifically in the lower right corner. He would have to be precise.

Genji let himself fly foward, in flurry of speed and force, his shoulder aimed at the corner.

The glass shattered.

Genji stepped out of the cell, preparing himself a fight. The security detail would be here any second.

No sooner than he thought that two guards entered room. Genji ducked behind cover, grabbing a few pieces of glass. They were crude clumsy weapons, but they were all he had.

A guard rushed at his position.

Genji rolled out from the cover, throwing a piece of glass. It struck the guard in his neck.

The other guard could barely yell as he charged on top of him. The guard fell, Genji on top of him. Genji raised his arm, glass in hand, and brought it down of the guards face.

Genji stood up and turned towards the hall outside the door way. A row of guards were lined up guns pointed at him.

He tightened his grip on the glass in his hands.

Bring it on.

Author's note: I appreciate all the feedback I've started to get. Thanks for reading the watch and please keep reviewing.


	12. Chapter 12

Present Day...

Reyes drove down the road, dodging between vehicles. His roaring engines contrasted the quite hum of the civilians vehicles in the road. The cars all used new propulsion technology instead of tires or engines. Just another sign of the world changing around him.

He thought it seemed fitting. People like him weren't going to be around much longer. Jack always had a phrase for it.

"Old Soldiers."

Reyes knew it better than most. All the wars. All the friends lost. Reyes was tired.

Tired of the fight.

A car hummed by him, new and shining in the moonlight. Reyes couldn't help but think of it as a sign the world was telling him it was passing him by. Maybe it was. But it would have to run him over before he would get out of the way.

Reyes revved the engine of his bike and continued speeding down the highway.

The cars around him were sluggish, calm, carefree.

Everything he wasn't. He had a mission. Official or not, he was going to get it done.

Reyes took the exit splintering off the highway, leading to the factory.

He'd rummaged through the missions reports, and knew this was the place to start looking.

He stopped his bike in front of the large building. He could see windows shattered with gunfire, signs of the conflict that had raged inside.

Reyes got off his bike, activating his bracers, feeling his guns appear in his hands.

He stopped at the doorway, looking inside the large empty building.

"Old Soldiers..."

Reyes stepped into the factory, noticing the bloody shattered glass.

His blood.

Reyes' face stiffened. He felt his anger flood him.

They'll pay for what they did to the kid.

Reaper began his investigation.

He started with the old control room. Multiple tables were overturned, riddled with bullet holes. He looked down at the shells on the ground. Revolver.

This is where McCree had tried holding out.

But he already knew that half of the story. The files he had seen at Overwatch's database relating to the investigation had told him how it had happened.

No what he needed was something much more personal. Something...

He stopped looking at the wall. The report had said there were no traces of the sniper rounds. Damn techs were getting sloppy. Reyes leaned down and analyzed the faint splinter of a round embedded into the wall. He had an almost encyclopedic of weaponry and munitions. But this. This was something new.

He examined the sliver. The shell hadn't shattered when it hit the wall. It dissolved. The speck must've been defective. He looked closer at it. A sniper round that doesn't leave a trace.

Reyes pocketed the speck and stood up.

"Great," he thought to himself, "now I'm hunting ghosts."

He made his way up to the second floor of the factory.

Not even a ghost would hide from him. He chuckled. It reminded him of what his old squad captain had once called after he had cleared out an entire building of omnics alone.

"The angel of death. A grim reaper."

Reyes walked around the balcony like floor that was the second level of the factory.

This was a snipers dream. Easy mobility to see any part of the entire floor. Perfect cover from the darkness.

It was too perfect.

Why the hell had agents been sent here with only the minimal coverage they had?

Reyes only had a moment to think when he heard the slight creak of metal behind. Would've gone completely unnoticed by most people, but not him.

Reyes pivoted only to feel the massive impact of a kick to the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Reyes raised his guns and fired wildly around him, lighting the darkness with the red blast of his shotguns. The name hell fire shotgun name never seemed more appropriate than in that inky blackness lit by only red barrages of death.

Reaper stopped firing and dropped his guns. Dry.

He saw movement to his right only for a millisecond, but it was long enough for him to pounce at it. A predator lunging at it prey.

He grabbed his assailant by the neck bashing their head against the wall.

He heard the crack of something metal snapping, but was only able to see the darkness in front of him.

Suddenly the figure slipped from his grasp, flying across the gap of the second floor that viewed the first.

Reyes was able to finally see his attacker however.

She was dressed in pure black, slim figure. She had some kind of grappling hook on her arm. Her entire face was covered in a armored visor, now damaged where Reyes had thrown her against the wall.

Then she slipped back into the darkness, leaving Reyes blind again. He felt his shotguns reappear in his hands.

Reyes began sprinting over to where the woman had landed. Odds were she was going to try to take a shot at him in a few seconds. He would have to reach her before that happened.

A round flew over his shoulder, scratching the back of his neck. Only millimeters from a kill shot to the spine. Reyes rolled behind cover before she could let off another round.

Reyes felt another round hit the cover behind him, piercing it and landing only a few inches away. She missed. She wouldn't miss again.

Reyes braced himself, silently repeating to himself, "Old soldiers..."

Suddenly a hail of bullets rang out around his attackers position.

An old voice yelled from the stairwell, "I've got you in my sights!"

The storm of pulse rounds continued firing at the assassin through the darkness, forcing her behind cover.

Morrison's voice echoed at Reyes.

"What are you standing around for? Move it!"

Reyes sprinted down the stairs to Jack's position, Jack's tactical visor deactivating.

Morrison shoved his friend in the back towards the door.

"Move!"

Reyes and Jack both made their mad dash out of the factory, the assassin now aware that the danger had passed was already getting in position behind them. Reyes and Jack busted through the doors.

The sniper scoped in. Time seemed to slow. Her heartbeat, had it not been slowed to the point where it barely kept her alive, would've been beating in her ears. She only had time for one shot.

Something in her stuttered at she locked in on the one that first came in to investigate. It was only a second but it had been enough for the shot to miss his head. She fired.

Reyes and Morrison dived behind cover, but at the last second a shot echoed in the air. Reyes' bracer exploded.

Agonizing pain filled the squad captain as he felt himself burn.

The last thing Reyes heard before he passed out was Jack yelling, attempting to help him.


	13. Chapter 13

Present Day...

He dreamed.

Reyes stood in a blank white expanse, void of an end. Void of feeling.

Ahead of him stood a woman dressed in standard issue combat armor.

She was familiar.

Reyes approached her.

Reyes put his hand on her shoulder, memories flooding him.

"Ana..."

The women remained with back turned.

"Ana it's me."

Her voice echoed in the endless expanse, "Where were you Reyes?"

It was more of a statement then a question. The tone was flat, filled with disappointment. Reyes remembered the tone all to well from his own mother.

"I'm here now Ana... I'm here," Reyes attempted to turn the Captain around.

The expanse around him faded into black, and Ana slipped through his fingers, as if she had turned to dust.

"No Reyes. You're not here. You never will be."

A mirror appeared before Reyes.

He looked at his reflection and screamed.

Elsewhere...

It was all coming apart at the seems.

It had been a week since that night. Shimada had escaped custody, Fareeha was furious with him, Reinhardt came in with intel stating that the Order might be after Genji Shimada, who was now God knows where, and then there was Reyes...

Dear God almighty there was Reyes.

Morrison sat down in his office's chair.

Everything was going to hell.

His hand held his head, which grew heavier with each thought. He was always the man with a plan. Always the one everyone looked to in times of crisis. But now he was struggling to keep an eye on every asset of Overwatch. He'd barely slept the past few days, and he was feeling it.

The exhaustion. The endless force of time draining his body.

He wasn't a young man anymore.

The door to his office opened.

Winston stepped inside, awkwardly making his way around the door frame and furniture sized for smaller individuals.

"Excuse me," the scientist muttered shyly as he approached the desk after exerting a noticeable amount of effort in getting into the room.

The gorilla straightened his glasses, and cleared his throat. "Commander-"

"Is it him?" Jack liked Winston, but he was not in any condition to dodge around the kindhearted formalities that Winston often brought to conversation.

The gorilla paused a moment, then spoke, "Well yes sir. He... Well he may be awake. But-"

"Show me."

Morrison and Winston walked down to the hallway. A week ago this had been the place where Genji Shimada had cleared out a whole squad of prison guard using nothing but the shards of glass from his cell, which had since been repaired.

Not only repaired but improved.

It's current inhabitant was much more unstable then Shimada or Tracer had ever been.

Jack and Winston entered the control room, now under constant watch, with its protection systems constantly being monitored. Jack made his way to the only viewing window, activating the microphone that lead inside the cell. He could barely see anything in cell, except for the black haze that filled it ever since they brought Reyes in there.

"Reyes? Reyes can you here me?"

There was concern in Jack's voice.

The haze continued to shift, but something had changed.

A hand suddenly touched the window.

A weak raspy voice replied, "...I don't know..."

Jack spoke into the microphone again. "It's okay Reyes, whatever this is... we'll fix it."

The hand pulled away from the window.

"No, Jack..."

The smoke began to pull away to reveal the silhouette of a man. The figure approached the window.

The smoke cleared around his face.

Jack's eyes widened in terror.

"Dear God..."

Some of the guards silently prayed.

The face was Reyes, or more accurately part of it. His skin and muscle were constantly melting off into smoke, revealing his skeleton and tendons at certain times while seeming completely fine at others. His eyes however, never changed. They were black. Almost soulless. But there was something underneath the inky dark. An inhuman rage.

The voice much stronger now, but still raspy spoke. It sounded like the smoke around it. "There's no fixing this. Not this time."

And with that the smoke enveloped what was once Gabriel Reyes.

Jack left the room without a word.

Winston followed.

"Commander, we can still help him."

Jack turned to the scientist.

"Do you even know what the hell he is anymore!?"

Not many people were brave enough to yell at a full grown gorilla. Commander Morrison was one of the few. Even Lena was hesitant to approach Winston in such a manor.

Winston's face hardened. Not with anger, but resolve.

"We didn't know what had happened to Lena when we brought her in. It will take time. But I can help him."

Morrison looked into Winston's eyes. His expression softened.

"I'm counting on you."

"I won't let you down sir."

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the continuous support. I know there was bit of break in my updates. But I'd rather take my time making the best story I can for you all then to constantly post garbage. I hope you all feel the same way. As always please review to tell me what you like, what you don't like, and how you think everything is going.


	14. Chapter 14

Present Day...

Fugitive.

That was the best way to describe him right now, thought the heir to the Shimada Clan.

He turned the key in the lock, opening the run down motel room in the middle of nowhere.

He didn't know where he was or how he'd even got there really. His escape was a haze in his mind.

He remembered bits and pieces.

Combat always did this to him. He always recollected battles in small doses. His mind had to catch up with the speed of his own body.

Genji closed the door, bolting it shut with all three locks available.

He fell onto his bed, exhausted.

He'd managed to rent the room by pick pocketing some less then savory individuals on his way here.

The money he'd collected was a descent sum, but wouldn't last very long.

Wouldn't matter anyways. Genji knew he couldn't stay here long. They'd be coming for him soon.

He chuckled to himself. He wasn't even quite sure who "they" would even be at this point. Overwatch? The Shimada Clan? Maybe some other group of assholes that just wanted a piece of him?

It didn't matter. Whoever did come would have to put up a fight to get to him.

The young heir sat up on his bed and walked across the room to the cheap coffee table in the corner. He took out the brochures and maps he'd gathered from a few gas stations and the motel lobby.

They all were written in different languages. Some french, german, english.

Useless.

He had thought about asking what country he was in but as Overwatch would most likely be combing through looking for questions like that he had decided against it. All he knew was he was somewhere in Europe.

Ever since the end of the Omnic Crisis, the borders of countries became blurred. Overwatch functioned to break down borders, uniting the world together. At least they had. Nowadays the organization struggled more and more to deal with world around it.

Funny, everyone was always so optimistic about the future when Overwatch was first formed. Genji even recalled him and his brother playing as if they were agents from the peace keeping force.

His brother...

Genji felt his stomach drop.

He was free, and it was time to return to his mission.

He had to get back to Hanamura.

Elsewhere...

A young woman, somewhere in her early twenties, followed a massive older man through the street. She couldn't tell if he was drunk or not at this point. Not that it mattered. Sometimes it seemed like he did his best work while he was drinking.

The stopped at a gas station, looking at it as if he owned it, hands on his hips. He didn't seem real. Like a legend of old.

He would love to hear that.

The man turned to her.

"He was here. I feel it in my bones."

"The same way you felt he was at that brewery?"

"Ahh but that led us here did it not Bridgette?"

Unaffected as always.

"We don't even know if here is an actual lead, Reinhardt."

Reinhardt chuckled.

"It is. I can feel it."

The pair entered the gas station, making their way to counter. The small man tending it looked up in awe. Reinhardt tended to have that effect on people. If his size wasn't enough his ego seemed to fill the room with his charisma. It was something Bridgette had always admired, and hoped to inspire one day, just as he did.

"Have you seen this man?" Reinhardt raised a picture of Genji Shimada to the cashier.

"Y- y- y-," the clerk stuttered.

"Come on out with it lad! Justice waits for no one!"

"Yes," the cashier stuttered.

Reinhardt paused a moment, turning to Bridgette, a massive cocky grin across his face.

He turned back to the man behind the counter. "What was he doing?"

"He came in and bought a bunch of maps, he seemed lost."

"I need you to give me the same maps."

"I don't really remem-"

Reinhardt looked at the man, his body seeming to fill the room.

"The same maps," the would be knight repeated.

The cashier fumbled through receipts, finally pulling one out.

A few minutes later Bridgette and Reinhardt were sitting in a beat up trailer, reviewing the various maps.

"He doesn't seem to have any clear direction," Bridgette noted.

"No, his kind always does. He's just figuring out how to get there."

Bridgette looked over at the old man.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I would do the same thing. Come on. I have a good idea where he's decided to rest."

Bridgette made her way to the car pulling the trailer. Just as she was about ready to start the car she was stopped by Reinhardt's booming voice.

"But first... There's a brewery down the road. Go there first. I could use a beer."


	15. Chapter 15

One Week Ago...

In her youth she'd never been able to afford to waste anything. Whether it was material or opportunity. The poverty of her family had taught her this. When her family was eventually lost, all she had left was the lessons she had learned from them. She carried those lessons with her everyday. It was those same lessons that had taught her how to change the world. How bring justice to it.

The Order would bring the world to a glorious new dawn, of that, she was sure. But she would run the Order in same way the new world would be run. Without chaos. Without waste.

The woman looked over the recording of Reyes over and over again.

She watched him explode in shadows, screaming in pain.

Indeed, she would not waste this opportunity.

And she knew exactly how to seize it.

Present Day...

Morrison sat at his desk, sorting through reports, attempting to guide Overwatch's efforts.

He shuffled through the papers, looking at news articles.

...Forty Seven Dead...

...Chemical Warfare...

...Terror Spreads...

Jack put the articles down. How was he supposed to protect the whole world?

He rested his forehead in his hands, closing his eyes for a moment. He could feel his age taking a toll on him.

Jack opened his eyes, looking at the news in front of him. He noticed a small piece of paper poking out from the corner.

He pulled it out.

It was an old photo. The faces of Reyes, Jack, and Ana stared back at him. He smiled, almost reluctantly. Feelings of happiness for past times, and anger over the present filled him.

An alarm blaring in his ears shattered his contemplation.

He immediately began mobilizing security forces. Someone had broken into the containment cell area.

Elsewhere...

Reyes stood in his cell. He could hear the door to the control room being broken.

The security detail in the room prepared themselves.

The door slid open, gas canisters immediately flying into the room. Reyes could hear gunfire.

Finally the gas began to clear.

He could see the intruders, standing above the corpses of the agents that were guarding him.

He recognized one.

The assassin from the factory.

She ordered the men over to the controls, and they quickly set about opening his cell.

Reyes cracked his neck, and faced his cell door. The smoke around Reyes, began to whip harshly, as if it was responding to him tensing up.

He heard the security lock unlatch. This was it.

The door opened, and Reyes charged.

The two men who opened the door didn't even have time to look inside the cell before the whipping shadows over took them. Reyes tackled one to the ground, disarming him. He grabbed him by the hair, slamming his head into the floor, knocking him unconscious. He turned to the other intruder, who he noticed was blinded by the smoke surrounding Reyes. He seized the opportunity to grab the first one's gun and fired at his assailant.

He fell to the ground.

"What the hell?"

The gun was loaded with electric charges, built to stun, not kill.

At this point the other men were firing wildly at the cloud of smoke around Reyes. Reyes noticed one of the shots coming right for him, but it... passed through him.

Confusion filled him for a moment, but he quickly snapped out of it, lunging at the attackers.

He disarmed one of them, and used the gun as a club rather than a actual firearm. After beating off the last of the men he realized only one intruder was left.

Reyes turned to the assassin from the factory.

Rage filled him.

He charged at her.

She dodged easily, her movements almost liquid like.

"Sloppy," Reyes thought to himself as he missed.

He turned to the assassin, readying himself.

She attempted to kick him, but he quickly side stepped her attack.

Reyes took the opportunity to grab her shoulder, throwing her to the ground.

He slammed her armored face mask into the ground repeatedly. Images of McCree half dead flashing in his mind.

He grabbed her by the neck and slammed her against the wall.

"Now," he said, "his grip tightening, "you die."

"No Gabriel," she spoke, "I won't."

Reyes froze. That voice. No. No. No.

The woman took the opening, kicking Reyes in the chest knocking the wind out of him.

She stood over him.

Snap out of it! It's not her!

Reyes sideswiped her legs, knocking her to her feet.

He picked her up, slamming her head into the wall.

She spoke again, "What's the matter? Afraid of ghosts?"

That damn voice!

Reyes turned the assassin around, damaged vizor meeting his gaze.

"Who are you?!" He yelled at the attacker.

The assassin looked dead ahead, straight into Reyes' infuriated face.

"You know who I am."

Reyes yelled in fury.

"Your'e not her!"

He threw her against the wall.

The assassin got up, helmet now falling off.

Reyes froze.

Ana Amari stood in front of him.

She didn't look like she had aged a day. But her appearence had changed. Her eyes were empty. Cruel. Her skin was of a bluish hue. And she wore a cruel smile, one of a predator who had just caught their prey.

"Ana..."

Amari stepped towards him, stabbing something into his neck.

Reyes vision faded to black, the face of a ghost was the last thing he saw.

Author's Note: Hope you guys are enjoying the story! As always reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!


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